Securing Omaha Beach
by Grieve3
Summary: A WW2 Story along the lines of Saving Private Ryan. Please Rate & Review :


The salty seawater lapped up against the side of Sergeant Ryan's Landing Craft. The smell of putrid vomit filled the air, along with the sense of fear. Many prayers were being said as with each rock of the boat they drew nearer to Normandy Beach, France.  
"60 seconds 'till landing!" shouted the rather large Landing Craft driver.

Everybody's muscles tensed, preparing themselves for what lay ahead; Four machine gun nests, hardly any cover, and a hell lot of mortars.

Great.

Sounds of bombs dropping surrounded the boats. The whistling screeches seemed to be coming from all directions, Which most people thought was true.

"40 seconds!" Yelled the Driver.

Suddenly a boat parallel to Ryan's exploded out of the water in a colossal fireball.

"Damn!" Hissed a corporal, looking at pieces floating in the water from the previous boat.

"15 seconds!" Screamed the Landing Craft Driver.

"Get ready, guys!" Shouted Ryan, with a wave of his hand.

"10 Second--" The boat driver was shot by one of the machine gun nests!  
"Crap!" Screamed a young Private, "What the hell do we do now?!"  
Suddenly a bomb went right off next to the Sergeants Landing Craft. Water lashed into the boat and the Craft began to sway ferociously from side to side. The momentum of the boat rocking made the drivers limp dead body flop lifelessly onto the lever. Because the driver was so heavy, his weight caused the lever to be pushed down and the Landing Craft's door suddenly opened. There was about 10 feet of water between the soldiers and dry land.  
"GET OUT!" Sergeant Ryan frantically screamed as he realised a machine gun nest was directly in front of them.  
A slightly younger private than the previous one was about to protest about there being a rather large gap between them and dry land, but before he could even inhale to begin to speak, he was rammed in from behind and plunged into the freezing, bloody water.

Ryan was cold and disorientated. Below the water was Baltic, and his mind did not know what the heck to do. He was panicking.

"Don't panic, It only makes things worse." He thought.  
But he didn't have an air supply forever, and his lungs were begging for air, but he knew he couldn't just open his mouth. Bullets flew past him in the water. It was time to move. Partially walking under water is a lot harder than walking on ground with full army kit on, and Ryan couldn't take it. He quickly unstrapped two harnesses around his waist and most of his unimportant equipment fell to the ground. Ryan's brain was starting to become numb, and he could hardly think.

Slowly he moved his right foot in front of his left and then repeated the pattern with his left, gradually picking up speed. He could imagine his face turning blue with the lack of oxygen in his gasping lungs. He had to push himself to the limit.

"C'mon. I'm not even on the beach yet and I'm almost dead." He thought, which gave him a little more strength to not give up. The sand he was walking on was muddy, and his feet kept on sinking into it every time he took a step. But thankfully the sand started to slope upwards quite steeply, and the thankful Sergeant began to smile, knowing he would at least make it to the surface. He Did.  
As soon as the top of his head surfaced the water he opened his mouth very foolishly, allowing salty water to come gushing into his helpless mouth. But it was less than 2 seconds before his mouth was about water. Ryan swallowed the seawater, which was still in his mouth and welcomed the air that was filled with the smell of gunpowder. At the same time he doubled over, gagging from the unwelcome water that he accidentally swallowed. Thankfully an obstruction was less then 3 feet away from where he was standing, and he staggered over to it for cover from the MG42's in the nests. Thankfully, through all the commotion, Ryan hadn't been stupid enough to drop his Thompson machine gun. Luckily, It wasn't jammed up with sand. The obstruction he was slumped behind had cracks all the way through it, so luckily for Ryan, he could observe where the MG42's were without getting riddled with bullets.  
There were 2 Machine guns on the middle nest, followed by, on the right and left, 1 machine gun in each. It would be hard to get up to the sand-wall where most of the lucky ones made it. He looked around himself.  
"Sarge! Crap, Sarge!" Shouted a Corporal.  
Ryan turned to his right to see a Corporal, about 8 years younger than he, cowering behind a dead body, whose intestines were spilling out.  
"Company?!" Screamed Ryan

"Damn it, Sarge! I'm with you! Bravo Company!"  
"Alright!" Replied Ryan, "Here, what weapon do you carry?"  
"A Big-Ass Sniper!"  
"What the hell? A Big-Ass Sniper? Let's see the damn thing!"  
The Lance Corporal lifted a rather large Sniper Rifle from his side.

"Damn!" Ryan said in disbelief, "Right, what's your name?" asked Ryan, as a big block of concrete smashed down in front of him.  
"Corporal MacKenzie!"

"Alright, See that nest?" Said Ryan, Gesturing at the middle nest.

"Yeah."

"Shoot those Krauts!"

"Yes Sir!"

The Corporal slinked up onto the dead body's chest.  
"I don't know if it's in range, Sarge!" He said

"Just shoot the damn thing and lets hope it hits!"

"Whatever you say, Sir."

The Corporal looked through his Sights on his rifle. Fully focused. Aiming for the Nazi's forehead, just up above the MG42.

"Amen." He said.

Then shot.

The bullet ejected from MacKenzie's gun flew immensely fast through the air, passing other ammunition on its journey towards the Nazi. The journey was a short one. Within mere seconds from when the Sniper was fired, the Nazi Machine gunner stumbled backwards and out of site. He was dead.

"Good Shooting, Mackenzie!" Yelled Ryan, with a slight grin.

"Thanks, Sir!"

"Now get that other Sod!"

"Yes, Sir!"

Swiftly, Mackenzie swivelled around in his position behind the dead body; so he was facing the second Nazi in the centre tower.

He fired another shot.

Looking through his sights to see if he hit the Nazi disappointed Mackenzie; for he saw the Nazi still standing and fighting off the enemy; us.  
"Damn!" He shouted, "Missed him!"

"Well shoot again!"

Corporal Mackenzie lined up his sights with the Nazi's forehead again and fired. This round caused the Nazi to fall limply forward and onto his machine gun. The machine gun had stopped firing but was swinging about madly.

"Lets go, Corporal!"

"Yeah!"

"Follow my lead!"

Ryan began to zigzag across the warzone. Going from an obstacle on the left to one on the right which was a bit further away. Gradually they got further and further until Ryan and his companion were faced with a difficulty. There was about 10 metres between them and the sand wall.

They would have to run for it.

"Mackenzie…" Ryan shouted behind him.

"Yeah, Sir, I know." He replied

"We'll have to make a runner."

"Yeah." Mackenzie said, slamming his right hand into the rough sand.

"When I give the word, go, okay?"

"Yeah. Alright, Sarge."

Ryan quickly kept inspecting the right and left towers. Now it was time.

"GO!"

They began to run madly across the sand when suddenly a huge round of bullets went off right beside them.  
"What the hell was that?!" Screamed Mackenzie, while still running.

"The machine gunner that you killed!"

Mackenzie looked over to where the second machine gunner was that he shot and the gun was still swaying, but not as much.

"A dead guy nearly frickin' shot us!" Said Mackenzie, just before sliding on his left thigh towards the sand-wall.

"Ha. Yeah."

"What's so funny?"

"To think we had come this far and were on the verge of being killed by a dead man." Explained Ryan hysterically before a mortar bombshell went off less than 2 metres away from him. Shellshock.

The world around Ryan became dizzy and muffled. He was unable to clearly hear the screams of young men to the largest bombs dropping on the sand. Ryan's eyes attempted to adjust to where he was again but was partially blinded when sand flew into his eyes from the chatter of machine gun ammunition.  
"Argh!" Ryan exclaimed while trying to remove the sand from his eyes, "Flip!"

"Kill those guys!" He screamed, pointing at the towers.

A large amount of firing was heard from the sand-wall up to the towers.

"That's right! Give 'em everythin' we got!" He yelled madly.

Ryan rolled against the sand-wall until he was beside a radio operator.

"We do not hold the beach! Say again! We do not hold the beach!"

The radio operator nodded before his head was shot into oblivion by another MG42.

"These things are frickin' everywhere!" He screamed, "Don't they ever run out of ammo?!"

"My thoughts exactly!" Replied a Lieutenant with an American accent, "Lieutenant Smeider" Said the man, before nodding at Ryan, and then fidgeting to try and get in a better position in beside the sand.

"Company?" Ryan asked, sheltering his head from bullets flying past him

"Tango. At least, what's left of it…"

"What you mean?"

"I'm the last guy from there — At least I'm pretty sure I am."

"Explain?"  
"Yeah, Sarge! I don't think we got time for that just now, you know, with all the bullets and stuff flying around our head and deadly mortars dropping bombs on the first guys they see!" Screamed Corporal Mackenzie.

"Oh, forgot 'bout you!" Shouted Ryan to the Corporal

"Yeah, Mackenzie… This is Smeider, Lieutenant Smeider." Said Ryan, Introducing his two colleagues.

Mackenzie and Smeider nodded at each other in approval and greeting.

"Right, Mackenzie, there seems to be a path bit that leads up to their defences." Gestured Ryan.

"Yeah, I see it." Said Mackenzie.

"Okay, I'm gonna see if I can get some TNT up here and blow the wire" Said Ryan, "Then I want you to run like heck and get behind cover, preferably in view of those sandbags and towers."

"Okay—Okay…" Said Mackenzie, nodding his head and staring blankly at one section of the countless sand on the gritty polluted beach.  
"Hey." Said Smeider, laying a hand on Mackenzie's left shoulder with his right hand from behind, "You're alright."

"Yeah… Thanks." Said Mackenzie, trying to break a smile.

"You'll be alright." Said Smeider firmly.

"Thanks."

"Can I get some TNT up here?!" Screamed Ryan.

Men all down the long line behind the sand-wall began to shout TNT.

Around 3 minutes later a long tube-like thing came crossing over all the

Soldiers active bodies.

"Here comes, Sarge!" shouted another man.

"Great!" shouted Sergeant, relieved that they were going to finally get out of this rat hole.

He shoved the long tube through the wire above his head and took out his lighter.  
"Stay clear!" He screamed before lighting the thick fuse.

Everybody within 15 metres curled up into a ball and covered their head.

The blast was immense, blowing away an amazingly huge bit of the wired fence.  
"Wow!" Smeider exclaimed at how big the gap was.

"Covering Fire!" Yelled Ryan to whoever was listening.

Suddenly 12 fit young men started to fire from whatever angle possible at the towers and sandbags.

"Go Go Go!" He screamed at Mackenzie, who was already jogging on the spot. The younger Corporal raced off at an amazing human pace.

"He runs like a freakin' gazelle!" Shouted Smeider in disbelief as he watched the Corporal make a final good last sprint then fling himself behind an old pile of ripped sandbags.  
"Good job!" Whispered Ryan with excitement, punching his hand up into the air before retreating back behind the wall from rapid machine gun fire. Ryan suddenly went into a spasm of excitement.  
"What the hell's wrong with you, man?" Asked a Private.

"It's just 'cause we're gettin' in!" He said happily  
"Sheesh man! That guy might get popped!"

Suddenly Ryan became aggressive and squared up his offender against the sand-wall.

"That's my guy out there." He said coldly, "He ain't gonna die."

By now he was towering over the Private.

"S-s-s-sorry, S-s-sir." The Private said, embarrassed.

"Yeah." Ryan said, and backed down.

"SARGE!"

Ryan realised that it was Mackenzie shouting for him, and he popped his head up discreetly, to see two machine gunners pinning Mackenzie down.

"Damn you Krauts to Hell!" He screamed, while beginning to stand up and fire at them with his Thomson: 30 round magazine. He shot one Nazi in the chest and the other in the arm and head. They both soared backwards and out of vision.  
"Now get moving, soldier and clear the way for us!" He yelled madly.  
"Yes, SIR!" Replied Mackenzie, feeling as mad as Ryan did. And with that, he scrambled up and disappeared out of everyone's sight.  
"Lets go." He said to Smeider, who hopped up and ran, alongside his Temporary Sergeant to another place of cover; a small canyon type area. A lot more soldiers followed and broke off in different directions.

"Okay, now what?" Asked Smeider, grasping his M1 Garand in both hands, nervously. It was silent where they were apart from the sound of a distant MG42 firing madly.

"You got any gum?" asked Ryan.

"Yeah…"

"Give us it."

Smeider had no idea what plan Ryan had with his gum, but he gave it to him, a generous huge chunk the size of a tennis ball.

"There…"

"Cheers." Ryan smiled at him, and estimated half of Smeider's bubblegum before handing the larger half back to Smeider and him taking the smaller part and shoving it in his mouth.

"You greedy pig!" cursed Smeider, laughing.

"Kinda lost its flavour, hasn't it?" Said Ryan, giggling.

"It was strawberry." Replied Smeider, joining in the giggle fit, "I got 10 packets of them from NAAFI when I was in Tunis and I've just had them since."

Ryan almost puked knowing how long this sticky substance had been in Smeider's mouth.  
"Haha! Nah, I'm just jokin' with ya. I got it on the ship from this guy I know."

"Funny!" Said Ryan, "Yeah, I guess the joke's on me, your own Sergeant."

"For now."

They waited another 4 minutes in silence until the machine gun sound stopped.

"What's happened?" Asked the curious lieutenant.

"Dunno…"

Then they suddenly heard heavy boots clunking against wood.  
"There's someone coming down! And there's a trench too by the sounds of It." whispered Smeider excitedly, but it wasn't the happy excitement that you get, it was a scared excitement.

"Down." Whispered Ryan, Gesturing the "down" sign while he got into a crouch.

Ryan extracted his combat knife from his back pocket slowly.

The footsteps were slow and getting louder.  
"He's nearly here!" Shrilled Smeider in a whisper.

"You think I don't know that?" said Ryan, getting irritated but never looking around to talk to Smeider's face, always focusing above him, imagining the average height of a man, getting ready to pounce on him when he came around the corner.

The footsteps drew nearer…

Then stopped.

Beads of sweat trickled slowly down Smeider's forehead, he was nearly suffocating himself with how shallow he was breathing. He didn't want to be heard.

1 minute passed and still nothing happened. Ryan was beginning to wonder if it was his imagination when suddenly a figure sprang out!

"Hello there, lads." Said a Second Lieutenant Mitchell in a strong English accent.  
"Who the heck are you?!" demanded Smeider.

"I was about to slit your neck!" protested Ryan.

"Second Lieutenant Mitchell's the name, and pleased to make yer acquaintance." The Lieutenant paused for a moment and read the dog tags on Smeider and Ryan, "Pleased to make yer acquaintance, Sergeant Ryan Daniel's and Lieutenant Ricky Smeider."

Smeider walked up to Mitchell and ripped off the Second Lieutenant's dogtags. Then, before placing them in Mitchell's hand again and shaking it he said, "Nice to meet you too, Robert."

Smeider had, by coincidence, a younger brother called Robert and he knew anyone, or mostly anyone with that name hated it.

"Arrghh! I hate that name, I do."

Smeider broke into a massive grin, walked back over to the trench wall and propped himself back up against it.

"You seen any other guys up there?" Asked Ryan  
"What?" asked Mitchell, "Only Jerries, and I killed them all."

"None others?"

"Nope… I pretended to be a Nazi meself and infiltrated a tower. Then I knocked myself out the guards and made maself down here." He explained.

"Why did you come down here?" Asked Smeider.

"Well, I didn't want to raid the whole Jerries secret base by meself, did I now?" He asked hysterically.

"Hey, wait!" Ryan said, "What about Mackenzie?!"  
"What about him?" Smeider asked, then he realised that Mackenzie had been away for an amazingly long length of time.  
"Where the heck is he?!" Ryan screamed, while racing off down the trench.

"Who the heck is he?" Asked Second Lieutenant Mitchell, following Ryan and Smeider.  
"A guy I've only known for a short time but who I want to know for a long time!" Said Ryan.

"What the…? You Homo?" Asked Mitchell.

"What?! No! I just see potential in the young guy, plus he's got his whole life ahead of him!" Shouted Ryan madly.

"Alriiiiiiiiight!" Said Smeider and Mitchell Simultaneously.  
"Gosh, People these days."

Eventually, Ryan came to a place in the trench where the path branched off in two directions and an MG42 placed on top of some Ammunition boxes.

"It's like a T-Junction, it is." Said Mitchell, Childly.

"What way did you come from, Mitchell?" Ryan asked.

"Well lets see here…" He said, rubbing his hand against his stubble chin, "When I came down here, see, the gun there was pointing on me right hand side… So I must've came that way." He said, Gesturing to the left hand side, which was sloping upwards slightly.

"You sure?" Asked Ryan

"Positively most definitely, Guv." Smiled Mitchell.

"Ok." Began Ryan, "Smeider?" He said, looking at Ricky.

"Yeah?"

"You and Mr. Cocky here take the right, I'll go left. Once we secure the beach, we meet up."

"Where?"

"I Dunno… I'll find ya." Said Ryan.

"Uh… Ok." Replied Smeider, "C'mon, Mitchell." He said, jolting his head towards the right hand trench.

"You got it, Mate." Said Mitchell, slinging his Kar98 around his left shoulder.

"Lets go."

They broke off into a fast jog along the trench and around the corner, out of Ryan's view.

Ryan turned around and ran off in the other direction, in search of Mackenzie.

"Mackenzie!" Ryan Yelled. He had ran for about five minutes and had only encountered several Nazis on his journey, all who were drinking coffee at the time, with their rifles leaned against the trench wall. Ryan killed them easily.

"Damn it, Mackenzie!" He screamed, after shooting the third man.

A quiet moan was heard from around the next bend.

"Mackenzie?" Shouted Ryan, "That you?" He said, before walking off at a steady pace.

He looked around the 90-degree turn and saw Mackenzie lying on the mucky trench floor, two gunshot wounds to his left thigh and a rag stuffed in his mouth. His wrists and ankles were also tied up.

"What the…?!" Shouted Ryan, running over to Mackenzie, "What the hell happened to you?"

Only a muffled sentence was his reply.

"Flip!" He said, while taking out his penknife, "What happened to you, man?"

Once he had cut Mackenzie free and removed the rag from his mouth, Mackenzie explained that he was captured and held hostage by the Nazis after he attempted to take the three of them that Ryan did down.

"What? You couldn't handle three Nazis?" Asked Ryan curiously, while wrapping the rag around Mackenzie's two close wounds

"No, A guy came up from behind and shot me twice in the leg."

"Flip." Said Ryan in disbelief, "Here," He said, taking out two morphine tablets, "You'll have to swallow them whole but they'll stop the pain for a few hours." He explained.

"Thanks." Said Mackenzie, before shoving the two tablets into his mouth with a shaking hand.

"Right, we gotta get moving."

Mackenzie was lagging behind with his bullet wounds, but Ryan couldn't do any more than what he had.

"C'mon, Mackenzie." Ryan said sympathetically.

"I'm coming." He said, limping annoyingly slowly.

Ryan could put up with it no more, "Here, I'm carrying you." And lifted Mackenzie around his shoulders.

The battle dragged on, seeming to never come to a halt. Many soldiers were killed and the Nazis seemed to have the better deck of cards in the sinister game of war. Finally, many hours later, American and British troops won Normandy beach over and secured it; allowing many more soldiers to enter unharmed and win the battle against Adolf Hitler.


End file.
